


Drabbles 2010

by Garnigal



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garnigal/pseuds/Garnigal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Open on Sunday drabbles (100 words/chapter) for 2010</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rover

Generations of men (and eventually women) had dedicated their lives to the Watchers Council. They claimed it was a calling, requiring commitment and loyalty. Only the best and brightest were admitted to this rarefied atmosphere and even then, the top positions were jockeyed over by the fewest and finest. Young men (and eventually women) fought for roles as active Watchers, competed to rove the world with their slayer, fighting evil in whatever incarnation they found.

In the end, though, they were no heroes. They were nothing but pirates, sea rovers stealing lives and futures of lovely and brave young girls.


	2. Signature

Four/four time:

Her life was perfect. Friends, family, fun... she was at the centre of everything. It all ran along, perfectly in beat.

Seven/eight time:

He walked in and everything sped up. Life, death, fighting... she didn't want to be at the centre of this. But her heart beat to the same drum as thousands of slayers before her.

Two/two time:

Her heart pounded, spilling more of her blood to blacken the ground. She could feel the beat slowing, feel her pulse weaken, feel the deathly cold seep into her heart.

She hadn't known the music would end so soon.


	3. Tape

Photos covered the mirror.

Old and curling baby pictures peeked through here and there, offering a nostalgic glimpse of pigtails and braces.

A pyramid of cheerleaders and a boy in a leather jacket were mostly hidden.

The newest photos overwhelmed everything that had come before. A girl asleep on a table surrounded by old leather books. A grinning boy in a Hawaiian shirt with a redhead on one side and a blonde on the other.

Joyce sat on Buffy's bed and stared at the pictures she'd thought documented her daughter's life. Stared, and wondered about the pictures that were missing.


	4. Plant a Seed

They preached bravery, courage, helping others, strength, and honesty. They planted the seeds that they hoped would make their children better people, better citizens, and better friends. They groomed them for achievement and for success.

They preached discretion, watchfulness, independence, power, and prudence. They planted the seeds that they hoped would make their children safer, happier, prettier, and wealthier. They groomed them for popularity and for affluence.

Fertile ground and inspiring lessons. Time and repetition.

And the parents watched in surprise and confusion as their children became adults, selfish or giving, heroic or cowardly, cautious or brave, attention-seeking or shy.


	5. Return

There's a moment.

After the fruitless hiding is over and you're found. After the pointless screaming is ended and you're silenced. After the worthless fighting is done and you're stilled.

After all that, there's one last moment.

You already feel dead. Cold and blind, every limb is useless. Even if you were rescued, there would be no way to save you. In this moment, you have a choice.

You have just enough life in you to feel a slim wrist pressed against your mouth, or a drop of blood on your lips. Just enough life to decide whether...

To return.

+++++

There's a moment.

Before the truth is revealed. Before the screaming begins. Before the fists and fangs and fighting starts.

Before all that, there's one last moment.

You already feel alive. Everything is brighter and more colourful, like you can taste the breeze. You've already made your choice, and now there's no going back.

You have just enough emotion left to think of your mother grieving, your sister crying, your best friend wondering. Just enough feeling to yearn for them without the hunger colouring it all.

Just that last moment to say goodbye to his past, to himself...

To Jesse.


	6. Glee

She remembered being happy.

Playing dolls, hosting tea parties for her teddy bears.

Free as a bird, running around the neighbourhood with her friends.

Giggling in bathrooms, making eyes at boys.

Kissing in the backseat until she was breathless, sneaking in late with a smile on her face.

She remembered being happy. Happy, joyful, blissed out, gleeful, giddy, merry.

But as she sat in a darkened room at 2 am with a glass of wine, waiting for her husband to come home, Joyce knew she hadn't been happy in a very long time.

And she wanted to be happy again.


	7. Marathon

They talk in clichés and inspirational quotes.

They tell her to keep fighting the good fight.  
She's learned the only good fight is one you walk away from.

They tell her to give it her all.  
She's given them everything she has.

They tell her to keep her eye on the prize.  
She knows there's no reward at the end.

They tell her life is a marathon, not a sprint.  
She remembers the first marathon ended in death.

They tell her to never say die.  
She dies over and over.

And another girl is forced to listen to their lies.


	8. Elbow

It was hanging in the closet, like he might come back for it any moment.

Brown and green, worn leather patches at the elbow - it instantly took her back to high school.

Back when she was hiding her calling from her mother – if only her mother was still here.  
Back when she was sighing and crying over Angel –it had been months since they'd even spoken.  
Back when life seemed so hard – but she'd been so protected.

She boxed the coat up for Goodwill. There was no point keeping it. Giles wasn't coming back.

You can never go back.


	9. Clash

He sits, Caesar on his throne, enshrined behind his desk. He’s surrounded by guards, separated from his supplicants. He offers bread and circuses like crumbs to his inferiors. He feigns disinterest, but his avaricious eyes never leave the battles raging before him.

He lives for the clash of steel on steel, the flash of fangs and the burst of blood. It makes his own heart pump, his own fists clench, safe above the crowd and stink. Safe from the real dangers of blades and flames, he dabbles at war, wasting his soldiers without thought.

There’s always another Slayer, after all.


	10. Still Flying

She ran towards him, grin on her face, arms outstretched and feet barely touching the floor.

He always caught her.

She’d laugh and giggle and call out “Mommy, watch Daddy fly me!” as he tossed her into the air.

He always caught her.

She did everything at a run, aiming for whatever caught her attention, tripping over her own feet, stumbling into danger.

He always caught her.

She stayed out late, reacting to the impending doom of divorce with anger, defiance and deceit.

He was too busy to hear her call - ‘Daddy, I’m still flying!’

He let her fall.


	11. Play

They giggled in graveyards, heads together. Secrets and stories passed between them without words, through the semi-permeable membrane of friendship. These are the games they play.

They meandered by mausoleums, stealing glances through downcast lashes. Young love, manic in shy passion, conveyed by a touch, a look. These are the games they play.

They cavort by crematoriums, the only place where the dead don’t walk. Fire burns, but not as hot as the fear and despair that drives them. Teeth and nails leave scratches and bites, and then maybe she’ll be able to sleep. These are the games they play.


	12. Direct

She looks directly into his eyes, trusting and innocent, holds the door wide and offers invitation in her soft voice.

She doesn’t see the darkness lurking behind his beloved face.  
She doesn’t see the danger she’s welcomed home.  
She doesn’t see the violence and hunger beneath the veneer of familiarity.

She only feels the coldness of his hands and pulls him to the fire to warm him.  
She only feels the strength of his arms when he hugs her.  
She only feels the sharpness of his teeth when they are buried in her throat.

She thought he was an angel.


	13. Break

A single kick for Buffy to break down a door.  
A single demon for Xander to break an engagement.  
A single moment for Dawn to break the law.  
A single ticket for Giles to break a heart.  
A single bullet for Willow to break with sanity.

In the shadows, Spike tries to break through Buffy’s defences.  
Xander runs away and Anya breaks into sobs.  
The booty is returned, but Dawn’s managed to break their trust.  
Buffy begs him not to leave, but Giles doesn’t break.  
Tara falls and Willow breaks, and there’s no one left to pick up the pieces.


	14. Talk

Talk.

Angry words, comforting words, soft words, harsh words; the room was filled to the brim with words. You could drown in these peoples’ need to vocalize every single thought that crossed their minds.

She didn’t understand it, opening up like that. Revealing so much about yourself, it left you exposed. Vulnerable, to use one of Giles’ five dollar words. Vulnerable – nothing made that okay. Vulnerable was just another word for weak.

She was anything but weak, would never let herself be exposed like that. But if they were going to spill all their secrets....

Nothing to do but listen.


	15. Favour

_Fortes fortuna adiuvat._ Or so claimed the script on their elegant letterhead.

They took it to heart, their motto. Bravery and boldness were traits to promote and develop.

Oh, not in themselves. They threw themselves into books, only daring the dangers of papercuts and eyestrain. But in the Slayer... bravery and boldness were to be encouraged above all. The Slayers had been given great strength and great speed, natural abilities that allowed her to challenge vampires and demons. She should react instinctively, impulsively. Strategy could... interfere with her greatest abilities.

Fortune favours the brave – and if not, there was always another.


End file.
